


Eyes The Color of the Ice Which Lives in Your Heart

by urisarang



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin POV, Episode: s01e06 The Prisoner, I wrote this in a flurry of typing at 3am just like the last one, M/M, No beta we die like everyone's hope I'll ever be consistent, Pining, Pre-Relationship, but it is twisted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 11:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urisarang/pseuds/urisarang
Summary: “Hey Mayfeld,” Ran called out to a bald man with his back turned.“Yeah?”  The man answered as he turned around and all the air in Din’s lungs froze.Blue.He didn’t know what the name of the color was at the time, he only knew that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—even through the helmet’s optics.  All rational thought flew out of Din’s head as he stared at the man across from him in complete and utter shock.His soulmate.((Or what if Din discovered Mayfeld was his soulmate back during the Prisoner?))
Relationships: Din Djarin/Migs Mayfeld
Comments: 32
Kudos: 88





	Eyes The Color of the Ice Which Lives in Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Archangel06](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archangel06/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Shock of Color](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30099126) by [urisarang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/urisarang/pseuds/urisarang). 



> This is all your fault Archangel06—I hope you're proud of yourself.  
> Based on their lovely comment on A Shock of Color in which they wondered: what if Din had known about the soulbond all this time. <3 <3 <3 You the bomb.com
> 
> An AU of my AU where the first time you make eye contact with your soulmate you see color
> 
> ...what even is my life? XD Chapter two will happen whenever the writing gods deem fit because I apparently have no control over what comes out when I sit down anymore (I got like 600 more words of DDC down and was like nah) Shame.

Calling Ran was a bad idea, he knew that it was but he did it anyway. Since his falling out with the guild his options had become limited, not many would work with someone on the Guild’s hit list. 

He was getting desperate.

He was on the run with the child and funds were getting worryingly low. He had no choice, but when he had taken that first step onto Ran’s station? He had felt the regret growing before he even accepted the job.

Bad memories.

He used to run with Ran’s crew in his early days—days he’d like to put far behind him. He had done a many great things with Ran’s crew that would end up haunting his nights for years to come. His back was tense and his trigger finger itchy as he passed by people on his way to see Ran.

This was one place, of many, that he was not welcome. Not with how he had parted ways with the crew, how he had been forced to choose between one of their own and his creed.

He had chosen his creed and not a day went by that he regretted the decision—only that he hadn’t done it sooner. He hated that he couldn't count how many lives were needlessly ended by his hands when he was young and full of rage.

Ran greeted him like an old friend—the first sign of many that something was wrong, but he ignored it. Just as he had ignored so many things he should not have while working with Ran. Think of the credits, he had told himself. Think about how long they will keep the child and him out of reach of the remnants of the Empire. 

He could not afford to turn down whatever offer Ran had, he was desperate—and Ran knew it. A dangerous position to be in when dealing with someone as unsavory as him, but he could hardly keep the Razor Crest fueled and the child fed. He was already rationing his own meals, this could not continue for much longer.

So he agreed to be the ride for a crew of five, he preferred to work alone ever since his falling out with Ran’s crew. To have four others at his back he could not afford to trust? If he had any sense or any other option he would have walked away—had planned to do so once he met the crew.

He might have been desperate but to go into combat with people hired by someone who had reason to hate him? Suicidal. But then he met the first member of the crew and all thoughts of leaving went up in smoke. 

“Hey Mayfeld,” Ran called out to a bald man with his back turned.

“Yeah?” The man answered as he turned around and all the air in Din’s lungs froze.

Blue.

He didn’t know what the name of the color was at the time, he only knew that it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—even through the helmet’s optics. All rational thought flew out of Din’s head as he stared at the man across from him in complete and utter shock.

His soulmate.

Ran kept talking but Din couldn’t hear him over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. It was almost unheard of to find your soulmate so late, he was kriffing 40. Din had long ago accepted the fact that his soulmate had died young, which happened often enough to be the most often used explanation for not finding them. 

Especially someone in his line of work. Soulmates complimented one another, often they were of similar mind in choosing professions. Din wasn’t sure what it said about him that his soulmate was a criminal working for Ran.

He hoped that maybe his soulmate was like him, desperate, or maybe just confused and lost. As Din was when he had run with the crew so long ago. That hope took a heavy hit within seconds of finding out his soulmate was _Imperial_. 

How could he possibly have an Imp of all things as a soulmate? The very people who had driven his own to near extinction? There must be some catch, he thought. He was ex-Imperial—everyone makes mistakes, maybe his time working for the Imps was akin to Din’s time working with the crew.

Something that he regretted every night as he laid awake assaulted by his sins. 

Din listened and paid more attention than he had ever before when someone was speaking when Mayfeld spoke. He wanted—no he needed—to know more about his soulmate with the strikingly beautiful eyes.

But the more he spoke the more worried Din became. He was brash, full of himself, and condescending. He looked and spoke down to Din, a sign he was used to fighting for and maintaining his role on top of the food chain. An understandable reason to be rude to those who could threaten his authority—and that’s what he viewed Din as.

A threat.

He couldn’t be further from the truth but Din couldn’t say it. Couldn’t bring himself to say much of anything in his shock of finding the unexpected. Mesmerized by the different shades of color in Mayfeld’s eyes and wishing he could see them all with his own eyes, unhindered by the helmet.

Wishing he could have a moment, just one alone with Mayfeld so he could talk. Just the two of them, to reveal what Din knew that his soulmate did not.

But then he heard Xi’an’s sing-song voice and his blood went cold. Of all the people he could have been paired with, she was the one person in the galaxy he wanted to avoid most of all. Even when he was hot-blooded and filled with rage she had always rubbed him wrong.

Quite literally, just as she was doing then. 

Always invading his personal space. Touching places she should not. Always trying to get under his skin and under his beskar. Once, she even succeeded, albeit partially. Preying upon him when he was at his most weak, his most desperate. Tricking him with pretty lies and false promises of making him feel better.

He put a stop to it before she could get too far but what little of his skin she had gotten her hands on? Had felt so dirty he had scrubbed for hours afterward trying to wash away the taint of his desperation. 

His sin.

He had felt worse than ever, just like she knew he would. Oh how she had cruelly laughed and mocked him and his inability to _perform_. It was then that he learned some wounds could not be prevented even by his beskar.

Even now, years later she was trying to get under his skin. A knife to his throat and a hand at his belt—a familiar move of hers. It made his skin crawl and his stomach twist in knots at the memory.

Doubly so when his soulmate, of all people, joked asking if he should leave the room to give the two of them alone time. Din was going to be sick, how could things have started off so wrong?

All thoughts of catching Mayfeld alone to talk to him, to reveal himself as the man’s soulmate died when Xi’an joined the crew and they stepped aboard the Razor Crest. She was like a shark, could sniff out any and all weaknesses around her. Along with blades, it was one of her specialties.

You couldn’t have a bigger weak point than a soulmate. He couldn’t risk saying anything, but it hurt to keep the secret inside. To look at Mayfeld with longing while the other man returned his look with contempt.

It hurt.

Din couldn’t blame Mayfeld, how would he be expected to know the random Mando they hired at the last minute would turn out to be his soulmate? Even still each cruel barb at his expense, the mocking of his creed—they hit home in a special way coming from him. 

From the one person in the galaxy who should have been on his side. 

He did his best to brush it off, to remind himself that if their positions were flipped he might have acted the same way. Mayfeld couldn’t mean it, wouldn’t mean it if he only knew the truth.

A truth Din had to keep hidden from him.

If anything, the blame should have landed on Din’s shoulders. Here he was with his soulmate and letting the man say things he would surely come to regret once he learned the truth. How awful would Din feel if he were the one saying such things to the person who was the other half of his soul?

He would be devastated.

“He never takes off the helmet?” Mayfeld had asked Xi’an, his eyes not looking away from Din. It was the first thing he had said that wasn’t mocking or rude. He sounded genuinely curious and at that moment of time Din wanted nothing more than to show him, but he could not.

“This is the way,” Xi’an said mocking his creed cruelly, everyone but Din and Mayfeld laughed at it. Mayfeld squinted, his expression contemplative.

“I wonder what you look like under there,” Din’s fingers twitched at his side at the tone and the words. If only he could show him, he thought but the _almost_ pleasant expression melted off of Mayfeld’s face when he was met with silence.

“Maybe he’s a Gungan,” he said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. He had gone on to mock him and ask Xi’an if she had seen Din’s face. She didn’t deny it but neither did she lie and say that she had. The answer did not satisfy Mayfeld’s curiosity.

“Come on Mando, we all got to trust each other here,” it caused Din physical pain to remain silent, to deny the reasonable request. “You gotta show us something. Come on just lift it up a little.

“Let’s all see your eyes,” the way Mayfeld had said the last part was at odds with his actions up until that point. It was strangely intense as if he had some ulterior motive to looking Din in the eyes. 

Almost as if he instinctively knew Din was hiding something, or maybe it was his half of the soulbond reaching out. 

Din wanted to, desperately wanted to do just that. To pull Mayfeld aside and show him but the Razor Crest was small. There was nowhere they could go and not be seen and Din could allow Xi’an or anyone else to see him.

And then the big guy, Burg, made a move for Din’s helmet after goading from Xi’an and Mayfeld. His creed was on the line once more thanks to Ran’s crew. He could not let it stand, could not allow it even as a small, terrible part of him almost wanted it to happen.

Not in this way and not with an audience—but he wanted Mayfeld to see him. 

But he could no more forsake his creed than he could abandon the child to the Imps. So he fought, struggled against the greater strength of Burg while Xi’an and Mayfeld watched on the sidelines.

It was so wrong. To see Mayfeld look at him like that? As if he were some _thing_ rather than a person? 

It shouldn’t have been like this. Which of his many sins had brought about fate to have this be how he would meet his soulmate? There couldn’t have possibly have been a worse way for this to happen he had thought.

And then the controls to his bunk were hit during the scuffle. The door slid open and everything stopped, including Din’s heart as the child was revealed.

This was a kriffing nightmare.

“Woah, what is that?” Mayfeld asked with genuine excitement in his voice as he walked over to the room and the child.

Mayfeld looked between Din and the child his eyebrows halfway up his head in surprise. He had taken a step forward towards the child and Din forgot how to breathe.

“What is it? A pet or something?” It felt wrong to hear the child referred to as a _pet_ but he couldn’t afford to let his attachment to the child be known. Not with Xi’an, Din knew from terrible experience she held no qualms over ending the life of a child.

“Something like that,” he had said and in the next moment, Xi’an was once again invading his personal space. He had made the right call downplaying his relationship to the child but he would be lying if he said it didn’t sit wrong in his gut to utter the words.

She could sense something was off with him, probably had been able to since the moment she laid eyes on him. He bit the inside of his cheek using the pain as a focus to get his breathing and heart rate under control. 

He could not allow her to know what the child meant to him.

It took everything in him to not respond to Mayfeld talking about the child as if it really were a pet. It took even more to not even twitch a finger as Mayfeld picked the child up. 

Cold fear gripped his heart unsure of what would happen. What he would do? Everything had been going so very wrong this whole time, would it get even worse? 

Would he be forced to choose between the child and his soulmate? Is that a choice anyone could make?

A soft expression found its way onto Mayfeld’s face as he picked up the child and relief hit Din like a sledgehammer to the chest. Didn’t look like he wasn’t going to have to make that terrible choice after all. 

“Was never one for pets, didn’t have the temperament,” Mayfeld joked, acknowledging his piss poor attitude with a shrug. “But I look at this little guy and I think, maybe—just maybe I’ll try it again. With this little fella.”

It was said offhand, meant to be a joke but it made something curl in Din’s stomach—a good feeling for once in his life. Mayfeld couldn’t know the gravity of his words, what they would mean to Din to hear. Din had never thought about having a family of his own, but seeing the child carefully cradled in Mayfeld’s arms? 

Din had never wanted something so badly in his life than for it to be real.

The force in which he **wanted** scared him. Which made it all the more crushing when Mayfeld pretended to almost drop the child causing Din to start forward. He had to close his eyes against the sounds of cruel laughter all around him.

He was a fool to let hope bloom. 

Before he had time to even begin to process yet another hard hit where he was least expecting it the droid got on the overhead and announced they were exiting hyperspace and then did so without any further warning. 

They crashed around into each other as the droid performed the break-neck maneuvers required to slip into the transport ship’s blind spot. Instinctively Din went to the child to keep him safe, which meant he also went to Mayfeld. 

Din gripped onto a hanging handhold with one hand and with the other he grabbed onto the wall effectively boxing Mayfeld and the child in between him and the wall. The two of them lurched forward only to be stopped from hitting the ground by Din’s body. Mayfeld twisted slightly so that it was his shoulder rather than the child in his arms that slammed into Din’s beskar. 

It wasn’t much of anything to focus on, it probably didn’t mean anything. An instinct to protect something being held onto—it didn’t mean he did it to protect the child. 

But try telling that to Din’s foolish heart. 

A second of frozen time as the ship stabilized as the droid locked the docking gear. Their eyes locked. Din would swear he saw something in those blue eyes as they stared into his helmet. Something more than a simple surprise and a hint of gratitude. 

Something that fed into the small seed of hope Din refused to let go of. 

Mayfeld looked like he wanted to say something but the droid made another announcement on the overhead speaker breaking the strange spell over them both. Wordlessly he handed over the child, his eyes lowered as if he felt shame for how he joked about dropping the child only to nearly actually do it in the next moment. 

Their hands brushed as Din took the child from him. The sensation dulled by Din’s gloves was still enough to have him hesitating. Remorseful at the loss of contact. Mayfeld’s eyes flicked down to look at their hands and Din moved away as if burned. 

Stupid. 

He swallowed hard as he stepped away and returned the child to the safety of his bunk. The skin of his hands beneath his gloves burned and itched with the need for direct contact. 

So very different from the revulsion Din had felt at Xi’an’s touch all those years ago. 

Mayfeld stepped out of his personal space working at his bottom lip with his teeth as he looked at Din. He looked over as Xi’an approached, his eyebrows creasing into a frown. They exchanged words too soft for Din to make out but he had a bad feeling about it. 

Especially with how sweetly Xi’an had smiled at him afterward. 

Things were always about to take a turn for the worst whenever she was happy. Mayfeld seemed momentarily conflicted but all expression was soon wiped from his face as he got serious. 

They had a job to do. Din hacked the airlock security and was surprised when Mayfeld was the one chosen to go first. He had assumed it would fall to him with how little the other three respected him. 

Mayfeld closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled out his blasters from his hip. When he reopened them Din could see the clarity of a hardened veteran staring back at him and without another word he got down and peeked through the hatch. 

He quickly popped his head back in, jaw tense. No one dared to draw breath for two beats of a heart until he poked his back down then proceeded to show off his unexpected flexibility as he did a reverse pull up and flipped down onto his feet. 

Din’s eyebrows were raised inside his helmet, that was impressive for someone who looked to about his own age. 

One by one they dropped down and slowly made their way through the ship. Mayfeld was quiet and serious as they moved forward. Another surprise, Din had expected him to be as unprofessional as Burg and Xi’an were being. 

Unfortunately, the Burg's temper blew their element of surprise and they soon found themselves under fire from several droids. As they took cover behind bulkheads, Din looked over at where Mayfeld leaned against the wall, his face tense— 

And made a rash decision born of his heart rather than his head. 

A habit he had grown into since finding the child, one he would not be soon to break. 

Din doubled back around so that he could come up behind the group of droids. He heard Mayfeld say something sounding worried and angry but he stopped in surprise when he saw Din behind the droids. 

Something primal flared up within Din seeing his soulmate in danger—the droids never stood a chance. Single handedly taking them all out as he showed off. 

Standing over the last droid to fall by his hand he panted catching his breath. He looked up at Mayfeld and their eyes locked. The blue of his eyes had grown darker, his pupils wide and his cheeks stained a darker red. 

Din watched Mayfeld’s throat work as he swallowed. He blinked as he worked to school his expression once more, but it was too late—Din had already seen what his ‘show’ had done to Migs. 

There was something there between them. It wasn’t just his imagination. 

It might not be at all how Din would have expected this to go, how anyone could expect this to go—but there was hope. 

A hope that grew when they opened the control room to find a New Republic officer and Mayfeld _didn’t_ immediately shoot to kill. He could have easily shot him in the head the second the doors opened but he didn’t. He waited. Tried to talk the man into lowering his blaster first. 

Not something Din would have expected from an ex-Imperial. 

The officer didn’t listen and Mayfeld’s eyes went cold. Din knew that look, it was the look of a man about to take a life. Din put his blaster away, tried to cool the situation down but it was a lost cause. 

One that turned into a stand-off with a blaster pointed at both Burg and Mayfeld. It was a bluff, he couldn’t shoot his soulmate. 

What kind of monster would he be then? Even if his soulmate was never anything more than the man Din met—a criminal, a killer, who would show no remorse shooting the one innocent man in the room. 

Even if that was all he was Din could not take his life. He would sooner take his own. 

But would Mayfeld take his? Not knowing what they are to one another? What would happen then if Mayfeld shot him dead—if he removed Din’s helmet what would he see? Would he be destined to live in the grey forever? 

Or would he see color at the end as Din’s soul left his body? 

The thought alone was enough to give him chills and have him lowering his blaster away from Mayfeld. The possibility of it happening was unthinkable. He could not curse Mayfeld to have his soulmate’s blood on his hands. There was no greater sin or crime. No one deserved to suffer that fate. 

Din opened his mouth to try and deescalate the situation again but the woosh of a blade cutting through the air ended their standoff. Din watched dumbly as the New Republic officer fell to the ground, a wet gurgle escaping him as a dark pool of blood grew around him. 

“You didn’t have to kill him,” he said dumbly to the room a large, his words went unnoticed. As much as it pained Din to admit it, they had bigger problems than the murder of a New Republic officer. 

The transponder flashed where it laid on the ground. They had at most 20 minutes before an attack group arrived. 

Din swallowed his anger and regret, following behind Mayfeld as he led the way to the prisoner they were sent to extract. When the door opened and he saw who was inside Din should have expected it. That’s just how that day was going. From worse to worse. 

“Qin,” Din said with a sigh. 

The very reason he was no longer part of Ran’s crew. He had to choose between his creed and the crew. He stood by that decision and always would—even if it had come back to bite him in the ass. 

“Mando,” Qin said with a smile, somehow not surprised to see him. That was the first clue something was gravely wrong here but it was way past too late by that point. 

Qin walked out of the cell, his shoulder brushed Din’s as he stood still momentarily at a loss. He had expected to never see the bloodthirsty Twi’lek ever again. Just as he was turning to follow he was hit by Burg’s big fist in the middle of his chest knocking him into the cell. He watched as Mayfeld hit the controls to shut and lock the door between them. 

Din laid there prone on his back for 10 seconds after they had left. Not from the force of Burg’s punch, but that it was his own soulmate to betray him like that. 

The pain of the betrayal hurt worse than any hit he had taken. He felt dangerously close to tears after having gone through so much in a matter of hours. 

He could not afford to waste any time so he swallowed his feelings down and got to his feet with a grunt. He needed to get to the child, nothing else mattered. 

A droid walked by his cell only moments later and with quick thinking, he was able to snare it, destroy it, and take its arm. He used the scomp link in the droid's arm to open his cell and made his way to the bridge once more. 

The beginnings of a desperate plan grew inside his head. His fingers flew over the controls and initiated a controlled lockdown separating the crew so he could fight them one on one. 

He was always better at fighting on his own, he knew he would make short work of them. It wasn’t without danger, Burg was far stronger and tougher than Din—but less maneuverable and far less intelligent. 

He got through it only having to suffer a few possibly bruised ribs and a killer headache. 

Xi’an was more difficult, she knew many of his moves and how to predict what he would do. But he could say the same about her. Her knives were deadly, all it would take was one slipping between the plates of beskar and landing home to end him. It was fortunate he had a lot of practice since he last saw her at moving to take the hits on the beskar. 

Even still one blade landed between his chest piece and pauldron sinking into the flesh under his collar bone—but he managed to subdue her in the end. 

Mayfeld was an unknown. An Imperial sharpshooter and a crack shot with his blasters. Din would have to get up close and personal without being spotted lest he wanted to risk taking a shot to the neck. 

He was by far the worst one to take down. Not because it was difficult—Din was a master of stealth—but because Din didn’t _want_ to hurt him. With the others he didn’t hesitate to strike out and deal damage. Even with his life on the line, he found even the idea of hurting Mayfeld to be repulsive. 

In the end, Din found a way to take him down without a shot being fired, nor a punch being thrown. He managed to sneak his way up behind Mayfeld and grab him from behind. He pinned Mayfeld’s arms to his side and held on tight. 

“You have two options,” Din said, his helmet pressed against the side of Migs’s head. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Another bluff, but one Migs wouldn’t dare call. 

“Easy,” his voice was rough, quietly spoken when he said the word. He knew when he was beaten and didn’t protest when Din slid cuffs around his wrists in front of him. 

Din hesitated his hands still on Mayfeld’s wrists as he stood before him. His helmet tilted up as he looked at Mayfeld realizing that this was the first time they had truly been alone since this all began. 

Mayfeld’s eyes are just as beautiful now as they were the first time Din had seen them. A terrible thought invaded his mind, a nearly overwhelming urge to see how brightly those eyes would shine without the helmet distorting his vision. His hands flexed around Mayfeld’s wrists earning him a worried look that bordered on fear. 

Seeing his soulmate look at him with honest fear for his life shining in his eyes? It was like a bucket of ice water being thrown in his face. Din stepped back, his hands flying off of Mayfeld as if he were a live wire. 

It earned him another strange look but Mayfeld didn’t say anything. Quiet now in defeat, Din hated it. 

Hated every step they took as he led Mayfeld to the same cell he had put the others. Hated how his hands wanted to hold onto someone who wouldn’t have thought twice about ending his life. 

Hated that he alone would have to live with the knowledge that he had effectively sent his soulmate to prison for life—and Mayfeld would never even know. It was probably better that Mayfeld wouldn't know, wouldn't have to live with the guilt of what he had tried to do. 

Din wished it could have been different, that he could have risked trusting Mayfeld at any point. 

But he couldn’t. The man Mayfeld was at the time was not someone Din could trust. Not someone he could have in his life. And most importantly of all? 

Not someone he could have around the child. 

Maybe Mayfeld could have changed as Din had done since his days of running with the crew but Din couldn’t risk it. Not then, he only had minutes to get to the Razor Crest or he would be joining them in that cell. 

So he turned around and walked away. 

And didn’t look back at what—at _who_ he had left behind. 

Along the way he ran into Qin, and being the backstabbing honorless coward that he was, he offered Din a deal. One that Din would not refuse. Triple the score or none. 

A simple choice. 

It was a good thing he didn’t waste any more time because he boarded the Razor Crest just in time to see the droid with a blaster raised at something in his bunk. Din shot it and as it hit the ground he saw the child standing there with one of his little hands raised up. His heart constricted in his chest, that was too close. 

He picked up the child cradling him close to his chest as he raced to the cockpit. He had barely gotten them into hyperspace just as three x-wings appeared on the radar. He was cutting it close, had he waited for even one minute longer. . . 

He refused to think about the possibilities, he had enough to think about as it was. That could all wait until he had returned the prisoner to Ran, along with a hidden transponder of course. 

While Din had gone out of his way to not kill any of the crew he had no such qualms about Ran and Qin. A dark pleasure rose up inside his chest as he watched the x-wings open fire on the docking bay—there was no way either of them survived that. 

Good, he thought darkly. Their backstabbing had cost him his soulmate, they were lucky all he took was their lives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote in a span of what 4 hours of staring at gdocs? So like no editing so sorry about that. Hit me up if you spot awful errors but I'm tired and tired of looking at it so YEEET!
> 
> Going to just have this as "inspired by" the other story cause I don't need another series and this way y'all can choose which version you like better.
> 
> The sequel I totally didn't start conflicts with this one as it went with my original idea of the Death Watch being Soulmate deniers rather than Archangel06's delightful idea that Din had known since The Prisoner. 
> 
> I liked both options so I wrote both.  
> Why make choices when you can just write them all I guess?
> 
> Also, I rewatched the prisoner and they dropped so many little tidbits of a Dark!Din past that it makes my brain spin happily. I've been so used to viewing him post season 1 where he's mellowed out with Grogu--really interesting to think of him as he once was. A criminal and not so different from Migs once upon a time. HMMMMMMMMMMM
> 
> Edit: someone come take my keyboard away from me--I feel like a spammer at this point sorry xD


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